


A Dream Come True

by emit98



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Rick and Morty - Freeform, i dont know, its asking me for tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emit98/pseuds/emit98
Summary: In the Citadel of Ricks, a certain Morty has a certain dream that he is determined to make come true.





	A Dream Come True

It was an average day in the Citadel (or, at least as average as it could be with a Morty as president). The Ricks were all doing their Rick thing, and the Mortys were all doing their Morty thing.

Narcissistic Morty was just one of many Mortys. He went about his day, kissing ass to Ricks when he wasn’t able to avoid them and wearing his yellow shirt. Looking at Narcissistic Morty, an outside eye would not be able to tell the difference between him and the thousands of other Mortys living in the Citadel. 

But, like most Mortys, Narcissistic Morty had one characteristic that made him different from all the other Mortys.

He was a raging narcissist. 

Narcissistic Morty was very lucky as far as narcissists go in the fact that nobody could tell he was as narcissistic as he was, since a good portion of the population of the Citadel looked exactly like him. None of the other Mortys knew that Narcissistic Morty was so into himself. The Ricks had a pretty good idea, but they had better things to do with their time than mess with a stupid Morty who was stupid enough to be in love with himself.

Maybe he was stupid. Or maybe he was very, very lucky. Most regular narcissists have to get their thrill from looking at a mirror, or at pictures of themselves. Narcissistic Morty just had to take a walk down the street. Another benefit of being a Morty was the fact that all Mortys were physically fourteen-year-old boys, and most got unwanted boners all the freaking time. Thus, Narcissistic Morty walking down the street with an erection did not set off any red flags. 

Narcissistic Morty had figured out his own purpose in life. While most Mortys longed for a Rick to take them on adventures across the galaxy, or for a Jessica, Narcissistic Morty longed to fuck another Morty.

Not a gentle love-making. Narcissistic Morty longed to spread another Morty’s sweet virgin asscheeks and go to pound town on him. He longed to hear someone who looked exactly like him, who sounded exactly like him, moaning out his name. It was a fantasy in his head that voice recordings and his left hand couldn’t satisfy. 

On the other end of the spectrum was Hopeless Romantic Morty. He had ended up with several dead Ricks as a result of his desire to find a Jessica and treat her right. The alien species found this out, since Hopeless Romantic Morty wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. Some used shapeshifting, turning themselves into the redheaded beauty of Hopeless Romantic Morty’s desires. Others without the ability to shapeshift simply put on a red wig. Either way, it distracted Hopeless Romantic Morty and got his Ricks killed. So Hopeless Romantic Morty was banned from ever getting another Rick. 

Hopeless Romantic Morty and Narcissistic Morty ran into each other by pure coincidence. They literally ran into each other. As they crossed the street, Hopeless Romantic Morty was staring at his framed photo of Jessica, while Narcissistic Morty was gazing at all the Mortys. They ran head-first into each other. 

“Aw, geez,” both said in unison.

They then locked eyes. Narcissistic Morty was thinking about how this was the Mortiest Morty he had ever seen. He would be perfect for fulfilling his fantasy. Hopeless Romantic Morty was thinking about how this was exactly the kind of thing that happened in the romantic comedies he spent too much time watching. If only this Morty was a Jessica…

Hopeless Romantic Morty stood up first, then offered his hand to help Narcissistic Morty up. 

“Sorry about that,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said.

“Aw, it’s alright,” Narcissistic Morty replied.

“I’m, uh… Hopeless Romantic Morty,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said, gazing into Narcissistic Morty’s eyes. 

“Oh, uh…” Narcissistic Morty thought for a second. “I’m Three Chest Hair Morty.”

“You have chest hair?” Hopeless Romantic Morty asked. “Lucky! I bet Jessica would love that!”

“Uh… I guess,” Narcissistic Morty said. He noticed the frame in Hopeless Romantic Morty’s hand, and an idea popped into his head. 

The light turned green, and the Rick driving beeped aggressively at them. 

“Get out of the fucking—” He belched. “Road, you dumb Mortys!” He turned to his passenger, another Rick. “Freakin’ President Morty, making it illegal to run over those yellow shirt assholes…”

“You said it,” his passenger said. Both laughed uproariously. 

Narcissistic Morty and Hopeless Romantic Morty ran out of the road, going their separate ways. 

It wouldn’t stay that way for long. 

Narcissistic Morty knew he just HAD to fuck Hopeless Romantic Morty. He also knew that, in order to do it, he would have to change his outfit, his hair… Everything. 

So Narcissistic Morty took to the shady part of the Morty part of town. It was the only place he would be able to drastically alter his appearance without arousing suspicion. 

In the shadiest part of town was the Morty Black Market, where a Morty with little concern for the law could purchase ingredients and supplies for drug making, sex toys, and other contraband items. Narcissistic Morty’s intended destination was the Build-A-Blow-Up-Doll Workshop. He knew only two things about this place: It would have the outfit and wig he needed, and said outfit and wig would fit a Morty. 

Narcissistic Morty went through the line, picking the doll, then getting it blown up, then picking out its hair and outfit. He bought the special protection tape for an additional $5.99, even though he had other plans for it. He exited Build-A-Blow-Up-Doll Workshop with a cardboard box shaped like a house containing an inflatable woman, and tape. He made haste in going back home to his shitty studio apartment. 

Upon arriving home, Morty undressed himself in front of the living room mirror, then undressed the blow-up doll. After admiring himself a bit, he proceeded to put on the doll’s outfit: a light blue polo shirt, a purple skirt, and lacy panties. He managed to tuck his boy goods enough to hide his bulge, using the tape he had bought. 

Narcissistic Morty stared at himself in the mirror, wanting to make sure he looked convincing enough to make sure other Mortys weren’t suspicious. 

“Something’s missing…” Narcissistic Morty muttered to himself as he ran his hands down his body. Then, he noticed it. His chest was the problem. Naricissistic Morty went to grab some tissues, and he stuffed his shirt until he had a voluptuous rack. He made sure it was secure.

Next in his plan was to call the Morty video rental store. Surely a hopeless romantic like Hopeless Romantic Morty would prefer the intimacy of using a video rental store over a streaming service like Rickflix.

“Hello, this is Mortbuster, how can I help you?” The Morty cashier on the other end of the line asked.

“Uh, hi,” Narcissistic Morty said. “Have you had a Morty come in and rent any romantic movies lately?”

“We only have one regular customer anymore,” the Morty cashier explained. “Goes by the name of Hopeless Romantic Morty… Nice boy.”

“Well, uh, can I get his address?” Narcissistic Morty asked. “I need to return his, uh… Hair dryer.”

“His hair dryer?” Cashier Morty asked with suspicion.

“He wants to use it to try and impress Jessica some day,” Narcissistic Morty said quickly.

“Makes sense,” Cashier Morty said. “Let me look it up for you real quick.”

Narcissistic went to grab a pen and paper as Cashier Morty typed. Cashier Morty gave him the address, Narcissistic Morty wrote it down, then thanked him and hung up. 

Then began the trek to Hopeless Romantic Morty’s house.

It was getting late, and most Mortys were heading to bed. Just to be safe, Narcissistic Morty put on a trench coat and saved the wig for when he was outside Hopeless Romantic Morty’s house. 

After a short walk, he was there. Narcissistic Morty was practically shaking. He put on the wig and checked in his pocket mirror to make sure he looked like Jessica. He then knocked on the door.

Hopeless Romantic Morty opened the door. His eyes were full of tears from the movie he was watching. Had he known that Jessica was at the door, he would have put something on besides his bathrobe and the fleece pajama pants. He would have wiped the dribble of ice cream off his chin. But he didn’t know it was Jessica, because finding a Jessica in a world where only Ricks and Mortys existed was logistically impossible. 

When Hopeless Romantic Morty opened his door to see a Jessica, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “One minute!” He squeaked out before slamming it shut and rushing to make himself presentable.

Narcissistic Morty dressed as Jessica was put off by this. Did his disguise really fall through that badly?

He knocked on the door again.

“Just a minute, my love!” Hopeless Romantic Morty called out.

That was a relief.

Hopeless Romantic Morty threw open the door, now wearing a sports jacket in addition to his usual outfit. His hair was slicked back, his teeth were brushed, and he looked as good as a Morty could get in the time allotted. 

“Hello, Jessica,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said in a low voice. 

“Hello, Morty,” Narcissistic Morty replied. 

“Why don’t you come in?” Hopeless Romantic Morty asked.

“I’d love to,” Narcissistic Morty said. 

There were candles lit along the coffee table in Hopeless Romantic Morty’s apartment. Some trash was shoved under the couch. Narcissistic Morty didn’t care.

“Wanna, uh, watch a movie?” Hopeless Romantic Morty asked.

“I’d rather skip the movie,” Narcissistic Morty replied.

The two kissed. As the kissing progressed to awkward groping, Narcissistic Morty panicked. He had no vagina, and Hopeless Romantic Morty would soon find that out.

“Wait,” Narcissistic Morty whispered, a plan forming.

“What?” Hopeless Romantic Morty asked. “Did I squeeze your boob too hard, Jessica?”

“No, not at all,” Narcissistic Morty said. “Morty… I wanna save myself for marriage.”

“But… Jessica, I thought you weren’t a virgin?” Hopeless Romantic Morty said.

“I’m a born-again virgin,” Narcissistic Morty replied. “When I realized I loved you, I gave my virginity back to God for the time being. But, uh…” He ran his hand down Hopeless Romantic Morty’s chest. “Anal’s okay.”

“So… Are you saying you wanna do anal?” Hopeless Romantic Morty asked.

Long story short, they did anal. 

It wasn’t the satisfaction Narcissistic Morty wanted. He wanted to be the one pounding the ass of another Morty, not the other way around. 

Once they were done, they laid there on Hopeless Romantic Morty’s bed.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom,” Narcissistic Morty said. His boy goods were starting to hurt. 

“Okay, Jessica,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said. “I love you.”

Narcissistic Morty stood up. Then, to his horror, his left fake boob slid out from under his shirt, landing on the floor.

“I can explain,” Narcissistic Morty said quickly. 

To his shock, Hopeless Romantic Morty just smiled smugly. 

“I was wondering when you were gonna come clean,” he said, reaching forward to unbutton Narcissistic Morty’s Jessica shirt. The other fake boob joined its twin on the floor.

“W-what do you mean?” Narcissistic Morty asked.

“You’re Three Chest Hair Morty,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said.

Narcissistic Morty nodded, looking away. “Yeah…”

“Go take off that tape and come back to bed,” Hopeless Romantic Morty said with kindness in his voice.

“Wait… You mean… You don’t care that I’m a Morty and not a Jessica?” Narcissistic Morty asked.

“I wouldn’t be Hopeless Romantic Morty if I did, now would I?” Hopeless Romantic Morty replied.

The two kissed, this time without the lies interfering. 

The next day, once the blood was properly flowing to his penis, Narcissistic Morty got to fulfill his dream of fucking a Morty, a dream that he relived many times afterwards… Sometimes in a red-haired wig.

 

THE END


End file.
